And now, here's the question.

Ola, bitches, good day to you and yours. All right, maybe you've heard, maybe you haven't, but it is hoodie week here on the men's room.

Hootty Week.

That's right, for those of you that don't know, a hoodie, it's just a hooded sweatshirt, a fairly common article of clothing from coast to coast.

But what we inadvertently discovered is that there are two definitive camps in the hoodie world.

Those who insist on wearing a t-shirt between their skin and their hoodie

and those who have no problem quote-unquote raw dogging their hoodie, i.

ida, i.e. hoodie on flesh.

But it's kind of like those people that go commando or underwear free and those who insist I'm wearing underwear. Look, I used to enjoy the

groin-related freedom of going commandal until I zip my junk in my zipper and once was enough.

So now I endure the penile prison. That is underwear.

The penile prison.

Jesus.

I also used to sleep naked, all right?

That was just my go-to.

It felt great.

Until I had children who, when they were younger, would climb into bed with me.

So that said, some people, adults, sleep in pajamas, which I absolutely find

ridiculous, but that's what some people do. Some people even sleep with their socks on, but inevitably

to each their own, but look, some people eat raw bagels. Other people, well, they insist that you

take your shoes off when you walk into the house, or they need a TV to go to sleep, or total darkness, or some people, they have to face the door when they're eating out at a restaurant, or having their toilet paper a certain way.

And it might be trivial, but we all have that idiosyncratic hill that we will die on.

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